She’s underhand throwing words with her mouth The boy leans in past natural borders, to study the agenda in her eyes He is built like a bent paperclip, with bottlebrush forelocks, a barracuda jaw.
Between her bare legs, she gently squeezes a cup of iced hibiscus tea. She reaches down and lifting it to her lips, I feel mine part, in thirsting sympathy…
Her upper thighs blush wet with condensation as The boys eager fingers click on her knee, like ice cubes in her sweating berry hibiscus, floral melt cascades down her throat.
Fairy breath lands on my shoulders - my silk overcoat It makes me dissolve with memory of my beloved tea picker, a cocoa skinned Sudanese girl traveling the road to market in Al-Junaynah, swaying in the truck bed under a warm sun, dreaming of red karkadeh flowers and a paper clip boy.
I noted after writing this that in Feb 2013, Marian wrote a beautiful poem of the same title here on HP. Other than title and her beautiful writing, this poem is very different! Hence it is called Hibiscus Dreams II!